


Last night

by the_sorceress



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:31:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sorceress/pseuds/the_sorceress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has stolen and hidden the Arkenstone, but he spends the last night before he gives it to the Elvenking with Thorin. I played with the timeline a bit, please bear with me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last night

It was late in the night when he approached him. His hobbit ears could easily make out the heavy footsteps, not that their owner made any effort to hide his presence. Bilbo's nerves were tense, his heart was uneasy. His secret was eating away at his brain, but he knew better than to reveal himself. Especially to the King Under the Mountain that was now drawing closer to him.

He greeted with his usual deep and acclimatic voice and sat beside him. It made Bilbo feel even worse. Thorin knew not of his schemes, acted as if everything was alright. To his mind it was. It made Bilbo sick to the stomach to bear his own guilt and secrets.

He greeted back in a small voice, too small, and hoped not to be suspected. And also half hoped to be caught and for all this to be over. Thorin's eyes scrutinized him and bore into his own, as if looking for a cause of trouble. A worried gaze from kingly eyes, lain over those of a Thief, Burglar, Liar...

"Is something amiss?"

"No, no... I just... it's gonna be a heavy night... you know with the-the battle tomorrow? Impending battle and all..." 

He gestured around uncertainly, trying to hide his lies. Thorin's eyes lingered a moment longer and he finally nodded in understanding. He had caught the bait. He had accepted the lie. It was a believable one; Bilbo had to give himself that.

"And it might take many a life."

Bilbo saw a chance in this line. A chance to avoid betrayal and convince the King that there was no need of such a costly war. But when he opened his mouth to speak he was silenced by a stern look.

"That's why I'm here. That's why I sought you out. It could be... our last night."

So that was it. A parting-night. A goodbye, a promise that even if things don't end well.... them two will. If only it were that easy. If only he knew that even if things do end well, it will be them two who don't.

"Our last night together..."

It seemed as if he was repeating his words but he was actually correcting them. It might not be their last night alive, but... tomorrow would tell if it will be their last night like this.

"Yes. If I had a choice how to spend it, it would be with you."

Yes, such a good idea, Bilbo thought. Spend his last moments in the King's grace in his arms. Thorin couldn't know what he was getting himself into, but it broke Bilbo's heart to know what would become of this night in Thorin's thoughts once he found out his treachery. How he'll think of it as the highest form of betrayal, as hypocrisy, as his worst enemy playing his most loved. And yet, he did want it to end like that. A last night of love, and happiness, and kindness. He wanted to feel his King's body pressed against his own and to hear his soft voice murmur sweet visions of the future in his ear. Visions of a throne in the Mountain's heart with Thorin atop it and Bilbo beside it. Visions of matching braids in golden and raven curls. Visions borne by exhaustion and sleepiness, and said while half-asleep, buried in the other's warmth. Oh how he wanted that. One last time, he told himself. He deserved that much.

"Al-alright. Good... I just thought you'd be busy... preparing and all...”

"We're as prepared as we'll get. And I wouldn't trade a night with you for a full set of mithril armour."

He glided his hand over the smooth mithril rings covering Bilbo’s thigh. The armour was too long for his frame and, except for his torso, covered quite a part of his legs. He didn't exactly mind in the moment. Thorin smiled as he met the a bit surprised eyes of the hobbit beside him. Bilbo did his best to return the gesture and, after failing, leaned in for a kiss instead. It was perfect like this. He didn't want to remember that it had to end, that tomorrow those hands slipping under his shirt would not be so gentle, and that they wouldn't be grasping his neck lovingly, but angrily. Not touching as an affirmation of love, but of wrath and disgust.

But now, right now, those hands were the best thing in the universe. All the gold they were sitting upon could not amount for the feel of Thorin's touch, of his specific scent and heat, of his strong presence and aura. Bilbo allowed himself to be pushed back against the gold, allowed his mouth to open and his tongue to dance with that of the very man he was stabbing in the back tomorrow. For his own good, he had to remind himself.

Thorin's hands continued their journey up Bilbo's mithril armour and under his shirt, which was soon lifted above his head and thrown away, forgotten entirely. He couldn't help but marvel at Thorin's features as he led a short battle with the irritating piece of cloth. The way his eyes narrowed a bit, the way his mouth curved in a small smile as he finally managed to be rid of the offending object. The way his hair pooled around Bilbo's face as he turned to look at him again, with a jokingly victorious expression. Thorin was just as beautiful as he was brilliant, valourous and sagacious. Why would a man like that fall into the noose of gold? How does it enrapture him so that he would risk the lives of his comrades and his own? Bilbo really had no choice. What he would do tomorrow would be for the best - the best of them all. Except for him maybe. No, he would much prefer to spend his life just like this. Alas, that wasn't possible.

He kissed the dwarven lips again, in praise for said dwarf's major achievement in discarding cloth pieces. His kisses were deep and heavy, drenched with guilt and desperation as he knew there weren't many left for him to take from Thorin's lips. Now or never. Now, and then never.

Burying his hands in the mane of Thorin's hair, Bilbo pushed himself against the much larger body, declaring his need of physical contact. The object of his need wasn't discouraged at all and instead committed himself to undressing Bilbo entirely. He, in turn, tried to do the same to Thorin but didn't manage much without help.

After hours of intense and loving foreplay, they were both finally naked, sweaty and ready. Bilbo had told himself a thousand times that there was no need to hurry, that the night was theirs. He didn't want it to end; he didn't want it to progress at all for fear of it ending too soon. He had tried to take it slow and failed for sheer need of more; need to feel Thorin truly with him, before he will be forever without. And yet, even for all the delays, here they were - Bilbo softly panting and Thorin's eyes gently pleading access to his body. The hobbit wanted to wait more, to feel the starving need a bit longer in order to remember the sensation better, but his body refused to abide. He nodded his head and Thorin sank into him - hot, wet and thick. 

It was an amazing feeling indeed. Being completely full and stretched, knowing nothing but hot friction and a raspy voice humming pleasures in his ear. Bilbo's senses were clouded and he couldn't think or move voluntarily, all he could do was let his instincts take over; let his body take the lead. He clung to Thorin's back, leaving nail-marks in process, not caring about whether the sounds he made could be heard far over the mountain. He needed this one last time. His blood was boiling hot in his veins, a fire burning in his stomach. The pleasure was building so fast and it had been so soon that they had begun... He didn't want to come yet, he wanted to feel more, he wanted to last more. And yet, for all his holding back it was over all too soon. And then it was over again. And again, and again, until the sun shone through one of the holes serving as windows and found them both pretending to be asleep in each other's arms - Thorin with fear of losing Bilbo, and Bilbo with knowledge that he will lose Thorin.

Just as he thought, it was all over way too soon. He wanted to say something, to reveal his plan and apologise and fight and die by Thorin's side. But no. He would do the right thing. He would rather watch his beloved hate him than watch him die.


End file.
